Mad
by Forget-Me-Not Writing
Summary: Jefferson, the mad hatter, and Belle, the girl with 28 years spent in an asylum, discuss maddening realities over tea. Possible AU.
**Author's Note:** Hey, thank you so much for dropping by! This story popped in my head as I was re-watching the series for the third time, and decided to run with this possible friendSHIP, haha. :) I mean no offense to your ship if you absolutely desire these characters to be solely with another individual, but at this point, personally, I want one of the characters out of their relationship and with someone who will treasure them. This OneShot takes place roughly around Season 2 Episode 4 with possible quotes and situations from other episodes as well. Happy reading!

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"For 28 years she has been their daughter, their Paige, but she's not. She's Grace. My Grace."

"E-Excuse me? Can I help you?"

Jefferson whipped his head up to stare at his intruder. Belle French cautiously peeked around the towering bookcase, not quite standing in the aisle he currently was squatting in. He turned his head and focused his eyes on his hands encompassing the hot tea. Eons of spinning the blasted hat for portal jumping, working on creating the hat in Wonderland, and picking mushrooms in the thorny Enchanted Forest were shown on his hands.

"Are you alright?" The Australian accent pierced his beloved silence once more and sounded a step closer to him.

"I'm fine," he shot, not bothering to turn around and give the response to her face.

"I know how to recognize someone in pain," started Belle, moving another step towards Jefferson, "someone separated from a love, and you're in it." She stood in front of him, but on the opposite side of the aisle between stuffed bookcases.

"What am I suppose to do?" he snuffled, walls rapidly crumbling down as he tried harder to hold on to reality.

Belle calmly crouched before him and placed her hands on his wrists. As she peered under his waves of hair draping over his forehead covering his eyes in in attempt to catch his gaze, she suggested quietly, "How about we get you some tea?"

"I'm good." He jostled the Styrofoam cup in his hand as proof to his claim; his movements, however, not harsh enough to unlatch her gentle grip or her motive.

"But have you ever had it iced?"

This caught Jefferson off guard as he gradually cranked his head up to meet Belle's blue observation. Yes, he's lived in this world for twenty-eight years, but honestly, he didn't venture out into Storybrooke all that often. Frightened of running into Grace (Paige) plagued his thoughts. So he stuck to the mansion, his prison, as he dealt with two realities. Walks along the road helped clear his head for the briefest of moments. Occasionally tasks helped settle his mind too, of course. Diving into cartography was the main occupation of distraction. Sometimes conversations did the trick as well; much like the one Belle was having with him now.

"Iced tea?" That was maddest drink suggestion he's surely heard in all his travels.

"It's wonderful," she chimed with her soft chuckle and a small shrug accompanying her smile.

"I-I don't want to go out there, out to Granny's," he stammered. The very idea of having to face people he knew back in the forest that now dressed modernly; the questions they'd have about his life and how his daughter was doing petrified him.

"I'll get it to-go, then."

Fifteen minutes and an explanation on what the term "to-go" means in the modern world, Belle delicately perched on the ground with her legs tucked under her and her skirt softly flaring about her in a petal-like manner, and Jefferson was sitting on the ground with his long legs crossed as he leaned against the bookshelf; book spines against his spine.

"Huh, cold tea?" Jefferson peered warily at the tiny ice cubes drifting in the light brown liquid.

"Mhmm, delicious," coaxed Belled after tasting her iced tea.

Hesitantly, Jefferson lifted the glass to his lips and sipped the smallest amount possible. He scrunched up his face upon contact with the drink, but sampled another drop and seemed satisfied enough as he swallowed.

"Hot tea is better."

"I'm not sure about that," Belle teased with her face tipped away slightly. "Now," she placed her glass on the ground, mindful to not let any of the scattered books contact the condensation of the glasses or pitcher. "Mind telling me why you're hiding away in this disorganized library, muttering to yourself?"

"No matter worth mentioning," shrugged off he.

"You mentioned someone named Grace?" pried Belle. "Was she a loved one?"

"My daughter, my Grace," he piped in immediately.

"And is she here, is she okay? There something I can do to help?" offered Belle, but Jefferson closed down and grumpily sipped his refreshment.

Belle spent his silence studying him. He was tall with thick locks piled on his head. Slacks, a long-sleeved button up, a vest, all in dark patterns, along with a scarf wound around his neck completed his attire. "I-I know you. You are the man who released me from my cell," she declared after her observing moments. "I apologize that I'm just now connecting that; it was a very eventful day, in my defense."

He jerked his head to nod, but didn't verbally reply.

She tried baiting him to open up again by commenting, "You didn't have to free me, but you did. Thank you."

"I only did it so Rumplestiltskin would know of Regina's evil against you and then he'd kill her."

"Regardless of your reasons," she remarked, "you still let me out of the asylum."

Jefferson shrugged and glanced away. He lifted the glass to his mouth again and scrunched his face as he swallowed the iced tea.

"You're the first person to have ever spoken to me in Storybrooke," wistfully, she mentioned, twisting her hands together as if nervous upon reflecting on her time in the asylum.

"You're the first person to offer me tea before I could to them," he weakly offered. She smiled at his response.

"I'm honored."

"I talk out loud often," he answered her question from a few minutes prior, staring intently inside the glass. "I'm alone a lot, talking helps me not be engulfed by the voices."

"Voices?"

"My curse was different than everyone else's," claimed Jefferson. "I remembered. Having multiple realities trapped in your head will drive one mad."

"So you could remember, then? About back home, about your daughter, Grace?"

"Yes."

"But now she remembers with the lifting of the curse, so why aren't you with her now?"

"You'd think I'm insane."

"I was in an asylum for nearly three decades, remember?" bluntly, Belle declared. "I couldn't remember anything from back home and I wasn't really given a backstory or fake memories. When I was in the asylum, I didn't know why I was there, or where I was, or what was out in the great wide somewhere. No one came to visit me, no one talked to me. As time wore on, I began to convince myself of realties that aren't possible. There was nothing I could do except hypothesize why I did deserve such a fate as an asylum and solitude. There was nothing I could do except wait for confirmation or rejection of my theory, and that's the hard part. Waiting."

"The aspect of waiting is one of the more powerful torture methods," agreed Jefferson with wide eyes.

"Yes," grimly, Belle nodded, "and then this man came through the door, you. You didn't offer much more than being a human, but it stuck with me that you still came to get me. Then we get our memories back and I discover the man who I love brought magic to Storybrooke, and how he's been lying to me and I'm not sure what to do: forgive him and go back to him, or forgive him and move on, or what. Additionally, my dad twists my love for him to get me to do what he wants even though the only person in charge of my life is me, but it doesn't feel that way when you've been locked up for almost thirty years," released Belle. Jefferson's gaze was trained on her, but his expression was unreadable.

She signed and continued, "So if you want to talk about being mad, or maddening situations especially when it comes to love, I am your girl." She stretched her red lips into a smile that offered understanding and not pity of which Jefferson was grateful for, and she provided him a quick squeeze on his calloused hands in consolation.

Jefferson didn't shutter at her touch, but he didn't react either. Finally, he took a breath and responded, "I couldn't reach out to my daughter for nearly three decades because I didn't want to plague her with the same curse as me. I didn't want to tear away her reality, her Storybrooke parents and story."

"So you burdened yourself with two lives."

"Like you said, I convinced myself of realities that aren't possible, which lead to my thought process: avoiding Grace was what's best. So I did. Waiting for Emma to come and get the hat to work. Waiting for a magical solution to a different life."

Jefferson was nailing Belle in the heart for relatable, trapped feelings. She knew what it was like to wait and not take chances and have to have other people perform for you. She reflected on the _Yaoguai_ and defeating it through her logic and how she became the hero by her own means.

"In my experience, sometimes that magical solution for your life has to be yourself," offered she, leaning in to speak quietly.

"That's the problem, I'm _me_ ," Jefferson glowered, hands fidgeting with the glass's rim. "I'm stuck in-in the past or something. I can't move on. I can't erase my mistakes; I have to live with them."

Belle nodded understandingly, "We all have bad things in our past, but that makes us who we are. Makes us stronger if we choose. My relationships with my father and Rumple aren't ideal, but I can't let it ruin my life. I have to keep on living, otherwise the orderly life people expect me to live will be all I do."

"But I want to live up to the expectations others have for me," interjected he. "I want to be the good father to Grace I've always strived to be."

"You've never stopped being her father just because of the curse," Belle pointed out.

"Regardless of me always being her father, she was still under the curse for twenty-eight years like the rest of this town. She was with another family during that time."

"And just because the curse has lifted doesn't mean that their Storybrooke memories or their love even for Grace lifted," concluded Belle, grasping Jefferson's dilemma.

"Why would she _not_ love them?" He continued in a rapid, mad mutter more of to himself than to Belle. " _They_ never left her in attempt to make a better life. They didn't have to make her pick fungus with them. She even had a stuffed rabbit. I should have…" he paused, attempting in vain to grab his thoughts as he stared at the ground and clenched his fists in effort to seize the carpet under this grip. "I should have never left her for that last portal jumping job. I should have been content with what we had. I just wanted her to have a great tea party."

Gently, Belle nodded as she heard his confession. With her hands calmly folded in her lap, she concluded, "So what I'm gathering is that you had to leave your daughter back in the Enchanted Forest and were separated from her. When the curse came, you could only watch her be loved by other people from a distance."

"Remembering is a terrible reality," Jefferson declared as he stared into space, tea between he and Belle forgotten.

"It's not all bad, remembering. It gives us the good times, too."

"Wouldn't you rather forget? Wouldn't you rather not recall living twenty-eight years in padded, forgotten room?"

"Yes," admitted Belle, staring off to the side, which made her blue eyes catch the afternoon sun, making a brilliant shine. "Yes, it'd be easier, but it helps me know who I am and where I belong in this community, I suppose. It helps me keep things in perspective." She shifted her sitting position to tuck her legs under her. "How did Grace react to you after the curse broke and _she_ remembered all that happened back home?" inquired Belle, intrigued by this man and his tale of woe.

"She ran to me with open arms," he sniffed, dropping his head in shame.

Belle jolted at his answer. "I'm sorry, I'm lost," she confusingly admitted. "She loves you, what's the issue?"

"Just because I'm her father doesn't mean that the last three decades of her with the other family weren't real for her. I watched them, I know how much they cared for her and truly were convinced she was theirs."

"Ah," Belle understandingly sounded, "and she's with them right now isn't she?"

"We ran into them on the street, and they were nearly bursting at the chance to catch up with her since she's been living with me since the curse lifting. They're getting ice cream."

"Grace may have had a good life with them, and she may be loved by them, but that does not compare to the love and life offered by a father, her biological and true father," consoled Belle as she scooted closer to Jefferson who still had his head hung and shoulders slumped.

"I'm no father! They didn't leave her. _I_ left my daughter," quietly, he murmured like a mantra to himself.

"Okay, this has got to stop," demanded Belle after a few minutes of him wallowing in those words. "The past is the past, Jefferson! If Rumple wallowed in his past mistakes as much as you are, then I wouldn't want to be near him. I'd assume he couldn't move on enough for me…"

"What is it?" Jefferson prodded at Belle's sudden silence.

"If he was truly sorry for his past, for choosing power and magic over love, he'd have never brought it, would he?"

"The only answer to that is why Storybrooke was covered in purple dust after the curse broke," calmly, Jefferson stated.

"Can he truly love me and power?"

"Can I truly love Grace and let go of all the times I was not who I should have been?"

Jefferson's question rattled Belle out of her personal guessing and refocused her on the mad hatter's guilt turned pity party. "Stop being afraid of wanting to deserve something great, Jefferson, my-myself included. I deserve a man who will choose only me the same way I'd choose only him. You deserve your little girl loving your forgiven self, and she has! Grace _ran_ to you when she saw you, curse broken, memories and all. She knew that you left in the pursuit of trying to make a better life. She understands and she has forgiven you. You need to forgive yourself, because if you don't, then you'll only be able to give Grace regret and the past, and not be the father she deserves."

Wearily, he lifted his face to gaze beseechingly into Belle's. "How can I be the papa that Grace deserves?"

"Forgive yourself and move on," earnestly, she responded. "I know better than anyone what it's like to have a father be stuck in the past, and it will drive your loved one away. The minute I saw my father after the curse broke, it was nothing but joy and hopes of a future. Then he had to retract to mistakes and decisions made back home in the Enchanted Forest, and it drove him to wanting to do terrible things, like erase my memory just so I could forget the deal I made to live with Rumple to protect my family and village.

"Move on, Jefferson. Forgive yourself and live the life you're suppose to have with Grace –that's your magical solution. And that may entail sharing her occasionally with her Storybrooke-cursed parents, but you shouldn't cut yourself away from her whenever that happens. Make an effort to bridge your differences with them. Do it for Grace. This transition has to be hard for her, too."

He didn't respond, Jefferson, but he was intently processing all Belle had advised, mulling over her words as he mindlessly stirred the remaining ice cubes in his tea by swirling his glass.

"Papa?"

The young voice interrupted the quiet that had settled upon the library after Belle's speech to Jefferson. Instantly, he perked and called out in a special voice only used for Grace, his Grace, "I'm over here, Grace!"

Quick moving feet over the library's floor filled the air and soon the person of the actions was before them.

"Found you!" She chimed with a giggle as she ran down the aisle, much like how she chased him in the woods for hide-and-seek when they finished picking mushrooms earlier than expected.

"Yes, you did, my Grace," Jefferson congratulated and received her hug from his low angle of perching on the floor still. "Join us?"

"Hi," she shyly offered to the girl, Belle, sitting on the floor across from her papa when Grace noticed he wasn't alone.

"I'm Belle," offered the auburn-haired beauty with her smooth hand protruding towards the young girl.

"I'm Pai-Grace," she answered with a wide smile.

Belle saw out of the corner of her eye Jefferson wince at her introduction, but mouthed to him subtly, _For Grace_.

He nodded and quietly asked after bit of hesitation, "How was ice cream with Mr. and Mrs. Carrol?"

"It was fun! I had chocolate chip. But they didn't let me get a double dip like you do."

Belle noticed the smirk gracing Jefferson's face at the remark.

"They invited us both to dinner next week if we were available, but I know how you feel about eating with… _them_ ," she added quietly, eyes averting quickly and her smile dimming slightly.

"Actually," slowly, Jefferson said, "that would be very nice to join them, don't you think?"

"I do think so, Papa!" Grace beamed. Her smile turned to a scrunch as she thoroughly examined the scene before her. "What is this?"

"A tea party," Jefferson offered.

"Oh, a tea party!" Happily sighed Grace with a dreamy expression. "I haven't had one in ages –especially with real tea, the Carrols didn't let me have caffeine."

"Caffeine?" Belled asked.

"Ultimately, it is a chemical that helps you stay awake," smoothed over Jefferson in explanation.

"Must do the trick for my late night sorting," Belle responded as she glanced around the library and all the work to be done, but then lifted her glass and drank satisfyingly.

"What kind of drink is that?" inquired Grace, noticing Belle's refreshment.

"Well, you can't have a tea party without tea, of course," she answered with a smile.

"Iced tea," added Jefferson with a bemused look pointed to Grace.

"Iced?" giggled Grace as she plopped down in the middle of Jefferson and Belle in the center of aisle. "I wonder what Mr. Tortoise would think of that, Papa."

"Mr. Tortoise?" Belle asked, not familiar with the name.

"My stuffed tortoise I had back home," answered Grace. "He got lost in the move here."

Of course sweet Grace would refer to the curse as a "move", proudly thought Jefferson.

"What, what did he look like?" asked Belle as she reviewed her past few days of inventory of the library since she received it a few days ago. Everything was in chaos and dust, so she's spent every possible moment reorganizing the books with something called the Dewey decimal system as well as categories like a place for adults and one for children and another for Henry and Grace's ages. Earlier just today, Belle was going through boxes indicated for the children's and elementary grades that had stuffed animals, toys, and fun reading games and posters.

"Like a normal toy tortoise," reflected Grace thoughtfully, "but definitely more round than most."

Jefferson added, "He even had a monocle, the sophisticated old chum."

"I know just the reptile of this description," confidently, offered Belle as she quickly stood and scurried to the area she intended for the young students. Rapidly, she shifted through the boxes that she thought had stuffed animals packed inside and blessedly ran across a very round and proud looking tortoise. "Is _this_ the animal who you so wished to be our guest, Miss Grace?" Belle asked as she held up the toy like a prize with a mischievous smile.

"Mr. Tortoise! You found him!" Grace exclaimed, immediately to her feet and embracing the toy before Jefferson could blink. "Oh, thank you, Miss Belle!" She then hugged the librarian as well.

"You're quite welcome, Grace," she appreciated as she returned the gesture.

"Now for Mr. Tortoise to try this mad idea of drink," Grace declared. "To think! Tea with ice, Mr. Tortoise."

Quietly and humbly, Jefferson observed the scene, realizing how ready Grace was to move on and live in the now rather than with the Carrols. He was grateful for his Grace's grace, even though he knew he did not deserve it. He saw the pain in Belle's blue orbs when talking about her father and how he couldn't let go of mistakes made long ago -Jefferson didn't want that for his daughter. Grace deserved more than that, so for Grace he was going to make an effort to reach out to the community instead of being a hermit. She needed interaction with the world; the world needed interaction with Grace's kindness. He was going to try to leave all the happenings of the forest in the forest and with his Grace he'll live forgiven.

As the setting sun made long shadows across the library from the partially covered windows, Jefferson leaned back and sighed with contentment, "I do believe we'll have to scramble out of Miss Belle's hair, Grace. You have schoolwork to do for tomorrow, don't you?"

"I do," she confirmed with slumped shoulders.

"Why the long face, I thought you loved school?" Jefferson prompted as Belle began to gather the dishes.

"School is amazing, Papa, it's just some of the parts are harder to learn. I understand math –that hasn't really changed from back home to Storybrooke. But the history is a bit different here and they all the expectations of reading! I don't know where to begin with this gigantic book list I have to have read by the end of the school year."

"That is right up my ally if you ever wanted me to lend a hand," offered Belle.

"Would you?" Joyfully, inquired Grace as she bounced to her feet.

"I'd love to help out in any way I can," smiled Belle as she too stood and left the dishes on the front desk of the library. Jefferson and Grace meandered towards the library's front, Jefferson slowing once they reached where Belle was placing the dishes.

"There's one more thing," Jefferson slowly said as he halted at the doors, "if I can be so bold to ask."

"I'm listening," Belle replied, learning on her forearms on her desk.

Jefferson nudged Grace to go on ahead of him while he conversed, "I feel like the best life for Grace is for not me holed up in our house all day, so I'd like to get out more and truly be a part of Storybrooke."

"That's wonderful news, Jefferson," congratulated she with a genuine smile.

"It's just… I've been alone for twenty-eight years in that mansion with only Regina – and _Spot_ \- dropping by every now and then. Before that, I was a mushroom hunter with not much association outside market people. And my job of being a portal jumper didn't really permit roots for friendship much," he confessed.

"Well," began Belle as she strolled around the desk to face Jefferson, "if your concern is not knowing the community and wanting to get involved, but not sure how, once again, I am your girl. Being locked up and then sheltered at the Dark One's house is not exactly having folks line up around the block to be my friend. I'm new to the area too, and if you'd like for someone to ever join you for a stroll or dinner at Granny's or some tea, you know where to find me."

"Is there a friend I can find in you as well?" Boldly, Jefferson inquired as he donned his hat.

"Let me ask you this: have you ever had a, a hamburger?" she quipped mischievously.

"Yes, of course," he answered, taken aback at the question.

"Well, I never have, but I hear Granny's makes a great one," Belle offered, nearly sheepishly.

"I do believe I have a solution for that," he winked. "So the mad hatter and the librarian part ways as unlikely friends," chimes Jefferson as he gallantly stepped down onto the sidewalk.

"And part ways as unlikely pieces in our magical solutions," added Belle.

"How mad," he commented as he quirked a smile and twirled to catch the hand of Grace who was happily hugging her newfound Mr. Tortoise.

"How mad indeed," she whispered. Belle contently leaned against the library's doorframe as she watched Jefferson and Grace stroll down Main Street hand in hand, both light on their feet to match their spirits after the revelation of iced tea.

Ruby, coming from an angle away from the line-of-sight of the librarian, spied Belle's smile and posture and therefore glanced in wonder down the lane to catch the mad hatter and his daughter round a corner towards the route for the mansion. Mouth agape with questions she switched her gaze back to the young librarian and silently approached her.

"I thought the library wasn't open yet," remarked Ruby as she folded her leather clad arms over each other; basket nestled in the crook of her elbow.

"It's not," simply Belle answered.

"Then what's going on here?" Eyebrows raised, inquired Ruby as she turned to face her friend.

"Just a tea party." Belle's focus was squinted due to the setting sun, but Ruby had no doubt the girl's azure eyes were trained on the last sighting of the pair on the street.

"A tea party… in a dusty library… that isn't open to the public due to its dilapidated state? How'd he even come seek refuge in this place?" She scrunched her sensitive wolf-nose as the dust was overwhelming her senses currently.

"Must be part of a magical solution," whimsically, Belle responded.

"How peculiar."

"No, how mad," corrected Belle as she smiled and pushed herself off the frame and spun to go inside the building.

Ruby, taken aback, shrugged and with her basket, entered the structure as well to place the borrowed glasses and pitcher in her basket to take back to Granny's Diner.

Under her breath as she wrapped the dishes in towels and placed in the woven vat, Ruby muttered, "This whole town is mad."

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 **Author's Note:** Aw, how fun! :) I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did conjuring up this possible scenario. Please, if you can, take the time to drop me a line of review -it'd mean so much to me and they're so helpful for constructing better stories in the future. Thanks and God bless! :)


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